


A Working Threat

by MiniOranges



Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Attempted Kidnapping, Cute, M/M, Protective Erik Killmonger, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:02:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28342848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiniOranges/pseuds/MiniOranges
Summary: Erik Stevens was immensely protective of his husband, T’Challa Udaku.
Relationships: Erik Killmonger/T'Challa
Comments: 7
Kudos: 57





	A Working Threat

**Author's Note:**

> It's a grim holiday for a grim year. But I thought I'd gift this short fic for a couple of y'all who requested more after "So, Are We?". Those comments kept me going.

Erik Stevens was immensely protective of his husband, T’Challa Udaku.

"Baby please, let me at least stay by your side or something!" Erik tries to argue his case one more time.

"N’Jadaka, I need you here at home taking care of our people. Have you forgotten that we’re both kings, eh?" T’Challa teases with a smile.

"I can’t bear the thought of anyone hurting you, babe."

"Are you underestimating me, hmm?" T’Challa can’t help but chuckle at the other man’s dilemma. It was cute.

"You know I’m ready to slice a motherf—"

T’Challa leans in to kiss his cheek gently, interrupting the babble. "I’ll be fine, my love."He adds, sauntering pass Erik like his worries didn’t mean shit.

At that point, all he can do is blink; frozen on the spot.

Before Wakanda opened itself to the rest of the globe, very few were known of its technological advancements. And as depravity continued to reek from the very mouths of every disgraced politician who only knew of greed and treachery, Wakanda had to intervene; had to help their brothers and sisters in the diaspora. Thus brought the current situation.

But of course, Erik wasn’t all that satisfied. Despite their agreement on the procedures, (i.e. _peaceful_ negotiations) he still grew agitated for T’Challa’s well-being— who, out of unspoken agreement, had to be responsible for the diplomatic part of the mission.

Erik only wanted his precious cinnamon roll to successfully execute the undertaking, safe and unscathed. He knew of the outside world’s realities, after all.

And so it was just as befitting for Erik "Killmonger" Stevens to create a broadcast addressing everyone else to keep their hands to themselves. He prioritized making the general public tremble like unclothed, brittle bones exposed to the blazing snowstorm. They all feared Erik Stevens; his muscle mass was a testament in itself! He was the definition of strength and virility; powerful enough that no one dared to get on his bad side.

On the other hand, is sweet and gentle T’Challa; all grace and regality. So full hope and promise! His charisma transcends borders and everyone can’t help but adore him. He was such a man among men. Hearts would flutter during his political speeches and light would dawn upon him, illuminating his entirety; like the sun serving a spotlight to only those worthy, and he was always it.

Who would’ve thought two contrastingly different personalities could make such fine, influential leaders of the greatest nation to stamp the Earth?

The days preceding the assignment was hectic at best. It was only fair for Erik to make another broadcast just in case. "Anyone daring to perform any sort of heinous act against the King of Wakanda, T’Challa Udaku during his state visit will be dealt with accordingly. This is a very strict and serious warning." He’d say. Although Erik regrets not being fully himself, death threats and all. T’Challa might deck him if he does.

"N’Jadaka, please." His husband would argue, but the accompanying light laugh gives away a different tone.

Regardless, Erik keeps growling at all the men T’Challa is assigned to meet. He’d taunt and survey _very_ suspiciously. He visits the Dora Milaje training grounds occasionally all throughout to tighten-up security further. He partners with the intelligence agency to check-in on any possible threats in the area his husband is bound to arrive.

After a generous amount of time, he deems the preparation workable at most. King T’Challa crosses the oceans to address their integration full of excitement and ambition.

But not for long.

Apparently, a very organized group of syndicates have heard of the secret king’s visit! And lacking the protection of his fearsome husband at that.

King T’Challa gets abducted at a blindside, strapped to a chair, and terrorized for his country’s wealth and valued metal.

The Dora Milaje immediately inform King Erik with utterly frustrated grunts, readying to take action.

"Those opportunistic motherfuckers, should’ve burned them all!" He angrily yells over the Kimoyo bead hologram. "I’m on my way."

Erik crosses the oceans not for long as well, and with the help of a tracker, locates T’Challa’s point.

Upon arriving, he hurries with the team, all in positions to attack. The smell of blood overwhelms their noses, along with the familiar sound of sweeping, metal claws, punches to the gut, and the obligatory shriek of pain.

Erik pushes the door open with a thunderous kick. The flimsy piece of wood coming detached to rattle the stretch of the room. And lo and behold, his husband, King T’Challa, stands with his back facing them, encapsulated by the Black Panther suit, breathing hard above a sea of dead-beat and groaning men.

He had transformed and did his thing! Put all those kidnappers to shame with Bast’s blessings, the vibranium habit, and his own unparalleled skill in combat.

He looked badass as hell!

"Baby?" Erik nears him gently.

T’Challa turns immediately, still breathing hard.

Erik’s face was surprisingly gleeful, a cheeky smile adorning the ever-present seriousness. "I’m glad you’re okay." He hugs him after nonchalantly stepping over a few bodies on the floor.

T’Challa remains with fury evident in his brow, hugs his husband hastily before turning back to the bloodied men beneath them in outright rage. They flinch at his stare, especially so with a whole accompaniment of guards in surrounding, flanking the two royals with intimidating looks as even their expressions remained stoic.

Behind T’Challa, Erik’s own molds into a scowl, but his voice booms triumph as he yells.

"I fucking warned y’all!"


End file.
